Lately, I've been hearing a lot of things. Not just from people around me, but from God, the universe—whatever you want to call it. It feels like every time I turn around, something is trying to get my attention. It started small—random gospel songs popping up in my playlist, or Christian videos flooding my social media feed. At first, I didn't think much of it. But now? I can't help but feel like there's something deeper behind it all.
It's like everywhere I look, I'm being told to get my life right, to get closer to God. And honestly, it's a message I can't keep ignoring. Even when I'm driving—whether it's for Uber, DoorDash, or just taking one of my long trips —I've started taking an hour out of my drives to just talk to God. I used to just let my mind wander or zone out with music, but now I try to focus. I listen to gospel music, I think, I pray. It's not like I'm having some deep, life-changing conversations with God every time, but I'm learning to make the effort.
I'm hearing the call, and slowly, I'm trying to answer it.
I know I've been hearing things I should've acted on sooner. When I opened up to Cindy about getting closer to God, it wasn't just some random conversation. It was me finally acknowledging something that's been on my mind for a minute. She's been working on her own spiritual journey, and without even knowing it, she gave me that extra push I needed. And then there was Kaliannah. The way she moved, you'd think she was as close to God as anyone could be. But even she wasn't perfect—she'd cuss sometimes, just like me. Yet, seeing her up in the early hours, praying, reading her Bible... that did something to me. It made me want to take my own relationship with God more seriously.
For so long, I've brushed off these moments, thinking I'd get to it eventually. But now, the things I've been hearing? They're getting louder. It's like God's been speaking to me, telling me that I can't afford to ignore it any longer.
Maybe this is just the beginning of me figuring out what all these messages mean. But one thing's for sure: I can't pretend I don't hear them anymore.
I've started to notice something: I'm never the problem. It's wild how people like to test me, push my buttons, and then act all surprised when I finally snap. They wanna play with me, act shady, and the second I tweak the flip out, suddenly I'm the crazy one? Nah, I'm done with that narrative.
It's like they'll disrespect me, do all types of nonsense, and when I react—when I stand up for myself—now I'm the villain? It's frustrating because I try to be cool, I really do. I give people chance after chance, but they keep pushing. And the moment I hit my limit, now I'm the one they wanna point fingers at. It's like they forget all the shit they did to get me there in the first place.
I'm realizing more and more that people like to play the victim when they get a reaction they didn't expect. But I'm not here for that anymore. I'm standing up for myself, and if they can't handle it, that's on them.
I started telling everybody I'm good because, honestly, what the fuck are they gonna do if I tell them I'm not? It's like people expect me to air out all my struggles and vulnerabilities, but what's that really gonna change? It won't fix anything or make them more reliable. So why not just put on a brave face and keep moving?
It's not about hiding my feelings; it's about not giving others the power to judge or react based on my struggles. If I say I'm good, it keeps things on my terms. I control how much I let them in and what they see. It's my way of managing the narrative and protecting my peace.
I never truly understood my own strength until I had to forgive someone who wasn't sorry and expected an apology I never received. It was one of those moments where you realize that forgiveness isn't about the other person; it's about freeing yourself from the weight of holding onto anger and resentment. Even without an apology or any acknowledgment from them, I learned that moving forward and finding peace was a testament to my own resilience. It's a painful process, but it showed me just how strong and capable I really am.
In the midst of all the chaos and the people who have come and gone, I've started to notice something crucial: the ones who truly care are the ones who check on me when I go quiet. Those moments when I retreat inwardly, grappling with my own thoughts and struggles, it's those friends who reach out, asking if I'm okay, who show me their genuine concern.
I've come to realize that these are the people who matter most. They're the ones who stick around, not because they need something from me, but because they genuinely care about my well-being. It's a reminder that even in times when I feel isolated or misunderstood, there are still those who are there, offering their support and love without any strings attached.
I'm slowly but surely finding my people—those who are true friends, who reach out even when I'm not the best at initiating contact. It's in these connections that I find comfort and strength, knowing that I'm not alone in this journey. These are the bonds that make all the difference, and they remind me that amidst the noise and the distractions, genuine relationships still exist.
Absolutely, here's how you might integrate that into your story:
One of the best things I did this year was accepting that whatever happens, happens, and that's okay. It's a simple realization, but it's brought so much peace into my life. I used to worry endlessly about every little detail, every possible outcome, and every potential failure. I'd get caught up in the "what ifs" and let them dictate my feelings and actions.
But this year, I learned to let go of that constant anxiety. I realized that some things are beyond my control, and that's not a bad thing. Accepting this has been liberating. It's allowed me to focus more on what I can control and to trust that, no matter what, things will work out as they're meant to.
By embracing this mindset, I've found a new sense of freedom. I'm able to approach challenges with a clearer perspective, and I'm no longer paralyzed by fear of the unknown. It's okay to not have everything figured out. It's okay to let go of things that are out of my hands. This acceptance has been one of the most transformative experiences of the year, helping me to find balance and peace in the midst of life's inevitable uncertainties.
One minute, business is slow. I'm hustling, grinding, and trying to make ends meet. Then, in the blink of an eye, it's as if everything shifts, and suddenly, my business becomes the fastest-growing one out there. That's how God works.
I've seen it happen with a lot of small businesses—one moment, they're struggling, and the next, they're thriving beyond their wildest dreams. It's a reminder of how unpredictable and miraculous the journey can be. For now, I'm still waiting for my time to shine, holding on to the belief that my breakthrough is just around the corner.
This ebb and flow, this waiting game, is all part of the process. It's a testament to the way things can turn around when you least expect it, and it keeps me hopeful and motivated to keep pushing forward.
At one point, I found myself grappling with atelophobia—the fear of never being good enough or the fear of imperfection. It was a constant shadow over my efforts, making me question if I was ever doing enough, if I was ever good enough.
I pushed myself to meet impossible standards, chasing perfection in every aspect of my life and work. But over time, I've learned that striving for perfection can be paralyzing. It's about progress, not perfection. Embracing my flaws and understanding that I'm enough just as I am has become a crucial part of my journey.
I've realized that this fear doesn't define me. Instead, it's a challenge I've learned to face, accepting that imperfection is part of being human, and that's perfectly okay. It's through accepting these imperfections that I've found a deeper sense of self-worth and resilience.
Somewhere along the way, one of my friends shared a verse from the New Living Translation (NLT) of the Bible: Job 22:28, which says, "You will succeed in whatever you choose to do, and light will shine on the road ahead of you."
This verse struck a chord with me, especially during the times when I felt lost or uncertain about my path. It became a beacon of hope, reminding me that success is not just about reaching a destination but also about finding guidance and clarity along the way. Even in the face of fear and doubt, this promise of light on my path has been a comforting reassurance that, despite the struggles, the journey ahead holds potential for success and fulfillment.
I came across a Snapchat post that broke down what "Amen" stands for in a way that really resonated with me. It went like this:
Agree with God
Move with God
End with God
Never Doubt God
Seeing this made me reflect on how important it is to align my thoughts and actions with my faith. Agreeing with God means accepting His plans and timing, even when they don't align with my own. Moving with God is about taking action in faith, knowing that His guidance will lead me where I need to go. Ending with God emphasizes the importance of concluding every aspect of my journey with trust in Him. And never doubting God reminds me to maintain faith, even when the path seems unclear.
This perspective has been a powerful reminder to keep my trust firm, even when faced with challenges or uncertainties. It's a mantra that helps me stay grounded and focused on my